Practice Makes Perfect
by ChocolateChipSurprise
Summary: You know what they say, practice makes perfect! Draco's day repeats like a broken record. Until he gets it right, of course. Most likely will be a DMHG story. Be sure to leave a review!
1. Chapter 1

**Practice Makes Perfect**

ooo-ooo-ooo

Disclaimer- It's not mine and I'm glad. The work seems _very_ stressful. I crack under that type of pressure.

Summary- You know what they say, practice makes perfect! Draco's day repeats like a broken record. Until he gets it right, of course.

ooo-ooo-ooo

"Malfoy, where are you going?" Blaise asked carefully, watching as Draco stood from the Slytherin table. The reply he got was Draco looking at him oddly.

"Where do you think I'm going, Zabini? I _do_ have classes to attend, you know." At Blaise's laughter, he asked what exactly was so amusing. Blaise replied with a simple, "it's Sunday," making Draco sit back down. The young Slytherin could have sworn it had been Sunday the previous day.

As he sat down, though, the front of his robes caught on his goblet, sending pumpkin juice splashing into his lap. As some people laughed, Draco groaned, attempting to clean his robes the best he could. He, again, stood. This time, though, he headed directly for the Slytherin common room. His day wasn't going well.

'My day isn't going well,' he decided simply, tugging his robes over his blond head after he got into the boy's dorm. Unfortunately, the robes didn't quite like the way his hair was styled that morning. Pulling them over his head messed up his hair completely. He groaned loudly as he walked over to his small bedside mirror. As he moved to pick it up, he accidentally hit it with his arm. It fell to the ground and shattered.

"Oh, yes, because I really need _more_ bad luck," he sarcastically told the small, jagged pieces of glass. He went over to Blaise's mirror quickly, trying best as he could to fix his stubborn hair. Then Blaise came into the dorm. Draco glared at the mirror and carefully walked over to his trunk. He dug out his school robes.

"Draco, what the hell is up with you? We should have left already!" At Draco's blank expression, he continued. "The Quidditch match against Gryffindor?" Draco stopped his actions, giving Blaise a look that asked 'What the hell are you on about?' "Drae, man, you just put your robes on backwards. And you're gonna need Quidditch robes today. Have I mentioned we're _late_? What's with you today?" Draco sighed, taking his robes off and finding his Quidditch robes.

He pulled them on and grabbed his broom, looking confused. "Bad day," he replied. "I was sure we had that Quidditch match yesterday, Blaise, when we lost," he explained, heading out the dorm and down the stairs with his friend. "I mean, first, I think it's Monday and make a fool of myself," he started, now going out the common room exit. "Then I spill my pumpkin juice everywhere, almost forget the password, forget about the Quidditch match..."

"And put your robes on backwards," Blaise supplied. Draco glared.

"Yes," he admitted. "I messed up my hair, too." Then, once out of the common room, he walked right into one of the wandering suits of armor and fell down, obviously having no intentions of getting back up. "And now this." He swatted lightly at Blaise's feet as he laughed. Blaise finally controlled his laughter long enough to help his friend off the floor. "Just go without me, Blaise," Draco said dramatically. "Tell the Captain I'm dying of a dreadful disease."

"You are the Captain, Draco," Blaise replied seriously.

"Well, it saves you the trouble of telling the Captain, then. He already knows." He managed saying this with a straight face, thankfully, but Blaise pulled Draco along with him to the Great Hall and out onto the grounds. Tugging him in the direction of the Quidditch Pitch. Draco tried to pull away.

"No, this is for the cup, Draco. _The. Cup._ We can't let Potter win Gryffindor the cup _again_!" Blaise protested, holding Draco's arm in a death grip. "Besides, you have to give an inspirational speech." Draco growled.

ooo-ooo-ooo

"Uh, yeah. So. Go out there and... Well, do whatever, I don't even care," Draco muttered to the team, only to be punched in the shoulder by Blaise. He glared at the spot on his shoulder that would soon be bruised.

"Fine," he said, now being professional. "All Gryffindor's points lie within them getting the Snitch. So, let me worry about that and, no matter what, score as much as possible. Do whatever it takes, they aren't that strict on the rules anymore. Push, shove, play rough, do whatever. Put us up by more than 150 points, and I'll do the rest." Everybody took that as a signal the speech was over and left the changing room.

Draco shook his head sadly, staring at the lockers. "We don't stand a chance."

ooo-ooo-ooo

"Alicia Spinnet with the Quaffle, neck and neck with Blaise Zabini, I never did like him..." Draco shot an angry look at the stand the commentary was coming from. He looked around almost desperately for the Snitch. "And Gryffindor scores, Katie Bell with the assist!" Draco put a gloved hand to his face, shaking his head. His head going back up, he spotted it. The Snitch.

In the slightly-closed hand of a delighted looking Harry Potter.

ooo-ooo-ooo

"It's fine, Draco, the Snitch practically came to him. People are saying it was charmed."

"It's _fine_? No it's not, Blaise, we still lost 230 to _10_. That's not _fine_." His head was down on the table and his hair was dipping slightly into a weird food that nobody would touch, giving some of his hair a green color.

"Yeah, well, you still might want to get your hair out of that green stuff." With a horrified look, Draco jerked his head off the table and lunged for his spoon. Looking into it, he studied his hair. Blaise gave him a would-be sympathetic look. If it weren't for the look of about-to-be laughter. He gave Draco a 'playful' punch on the shoulder. "Showing Slytherin pride, eh?" he asked, grinning. Draco promptly hit him on the head with the spoon he was holding. Blaise shut up rather quickly. Draco stood up from the table and headed, once more, for the Slytherin common room.

He grabbed a newly cleaned towel with the Hogwarts crest on it and quickly headed for the Prefect's bathrooms.

"Oh, God, Hermione, I'm _so_ sorry! I really didn't mean to, I just accidentally hit it and-"

"Parvati, it's fine. I mean, sure, it may make some of my skin purple for a few days, but, robes should cover most of it up. Seriously, there isn't a need to fuss about it. Go on back to dinner, I'll just go take my shower before this stuff drips everywhere, alright?" The girl had apparently agreed to that, since Draco heard approaching footsteps and fading ones. He groaned. He really had to face Granger after this horrible, long day? How Entirely unfair. But, of course, Fate was naturally unfair to all. Especially to Draco.

Hermione soon fell into step beside Draco, causing the boy to put as much distance between them as possible. She glanced quickly over at him, then looked back again.

"Malfoy, your hair... is kind of turning green." He looked over at her, scowling. She thought he didn't already know? For being dubbed the smartest Witch in the _school_, that wasn't very intelligent of her. Wait... '_Turning _green?' As in, spreading?

"Excuse me, I happen to have already been informed of that little detail," Draco said, without thinking. "Wait, you say 'turning.' It's only green at the top." She shook her head, almost sadly.

"Not quite, Draco, it... Well, it's spreading." Spreading. _Spreading_. Oh, dear _GOD_,

'I have to get this stuff out of my hair _now_!' he decided, rushing into the guy's Prefect bathroom. A short distance away, he heard a clock chime twelve.

And then everything went black.

ooo-ooo-ooo

A/N: YES! I am so, so, so, SO proud of the fact that I actually finished a chapter. I found this after a year from when I wrote it, and it STILL inspired me! So, yeah, wow. Proud. So, tell me if I should continue it! I think everyone's opinion counts when it comes to my writing.


	2. Do the Opposite

**Practice Makes Perfect**

**Disclaimer**- Don't own it.

ooo-ooo-ooo

Summary- You know what they say, practice makes perfect! Draco's day repeats like a broken record. Until he gets it right, of course.

ooo-ooo-ooo

There was a noise. A loud, annoying noise. Draco wanted to _kill_ the noise. But the noise was familiar.

His alarm clock. Something about this day felt oddly familiar. Draco ran his hand through his hair and cringed. He hadn't washed his hair the night before. It was probably a nice, lime green color by now. Great.

Draco opened his eyes against the blinding light of the sun. He slammed his hand down on his alarm clock. (A/N: Yes, it runs on magic.) The noise stopped and he stood up. He yawned and rubbed at the arm Blaise had hit the previous day. Or what Draco thought was the previous day. Feeling no pain, he cautiously pulled up the sleeve of his shirt. Nothing. Deciding it was on his other arm, he checked.

Nothing.

Maybe he just healed quickly. He stumbled sleepily into the bathroom, accidentally hitting his foot on the door. He cursed loudly, but kept walking until he got to the mirror. He nervously peered into it. His eyes widened. Holy shit. His hair was-- There was nothing different! How did that happen? Just the previous night, or so Draco thought, his hair was turning a bright green color. Draco sighed and began to get ready for the day.

ooo-ooo-ooo

He was standing up. And he was getting odd looks. He looked at Blaise. "What day is it?" he asked cautiously.

"Sunday." Draco groaned and sat down carefully, avoiding his goblet. He didn't want a repeat of yesterday. (A/N: Too late.) "So, why are you wearing your school robes? We have to be down there in ten minutes," Blaise reminded him and Draco groaned.

"I have to go through with it again?" Draco muttered, then stood up. He walked quickly to the dungeons, the Slytherin common room, and then to the boy's dorms. He rumaged in his trunk, but cursed loudly when the trunk slammed back down. He pulled his head away quickly, but his hand wasn't as fortunate. Draco was very loud and annoyed as he finished getting dressed in his Quidditch robes.

Nothing like starting the day with a trip to the hospital wing.

ooo-ooo-ooo

Still having a dull pain in his left hand, Draco picked up his broom from the hospital bed and headed for the Slytherin locker rooms. "You're late," Blaise greeted him, shoving him into the locker rooms. Some of the guys were getting dressed, obviously not having decided to change in the castle.

_'That's it,'_ Draco decided, gripping his broom tightly. _'I'm not losing to them two days in a row.'_

Blaise gave him a funny look. "Two days in a row? What are you talking about?" Shit, he had said that out loud.

"I said 'times,' moron," he replied, trying to make Blaise look like the idiot. The only real reason he did this, of course, was just because Blaise had hit him the previous day. Blaise just shrugged and the next thing Draco knew, he was staring at a team of Slytherins, clutching their brooms and looking nervous. "Alright, the same thing happens every year, yet we never realize it until we've lost. Take a minute and think back to all the times we've lost to Gryffindor in this very situation. We repeat mistakes all the time. So let's go out there and do the exact opposite of what we have been doing, and win this time." It would be one thing he could brag about, if Monday would actually come.

ooo-ooo-ooo

Slytherins were a very strange group. They were very cunning, compared to the other Houses of Hogwarts, but the smart thing went to the Ravenclaws. It seemed like every House, with the exception of Hufflepuff, cancled each other out. Gryffindors were brave enough to call Slytherins out when they were being cunning. Ravenclaws were smart enough to know what the Slytherins were up to. Nobody could pull anything off.

Besides that, the Slytherins weren't a very smart bunch of people. With the exception of Blaise and Draco.

"See, Crabbe, when I said 'do the opposite,' I didn't mean 'stop playing the game.' And Goyle, I didn't mean 'hit Bludgers at _your_ team.' We need to have tryouts again." Crabbe and Goyle were giving him a confused look.

"Draco, isn't that what opposite means?"

They never got to find out, though. Draco was pounding his head on the table so loud that he couldn't hear any more of the conversation. When Draco stopped hitting his head, Crabbe was pulling out his pocket dictionary.

"That's it. I'm going to drown myself in the Prefects bathroom. See you lot later." He walked away, attempting to hide the huge red mark on his forehead.

"He's not _really_ going to drown himself, is he?"

ooo-ooo-ooo

See, as smart as Draco could be, he didn't exactly realize that, because the day would be repeating, Hermione's day would be, too. He heard footsteps approaching and he heard talking.

"Oh, my God, Hermione! I am so sorry, I had no idea the spell would hit the food!"

_'Food?'_ Draco thought, listening curiously. _'Yesterday it was some kind of purple liquid...'_

"Yes, it just turns out I'm allergic to... whatever that was."

"I think everybody is. I think the bowl it's in is breaking out right now. Nobody was touching it." Parvati sounded like she was trying not to laugh.

"Yes, well, that's very comforting. I'll just take a shower and get this pink stuff off of me."

_'Pink? Wasn't it purple yesterday?'_ Weird. Draco realized something then, when Hermione fell into step with him, skin a hot pink color. Because he had changed _his_ day, other people's had been changed, too. It wasn't something hugely changed, though, and Draco didn't care anyway. As long as his day went back to normal, he couldn't care less about everyone else, especially a Mudblood. But still, he was rather curious about how he had changed it to make it like it was now.

He ducked quickly into the bathroom and paid close attention to his watch.

ooo-ooo-ooo

After he got out of the shower, he headed back to the common room, still looking intently at his watch.

At 11:59 his watch started acting weird. It was spinning rapidly in the other direction. It was finished the second it was midnight. And then, just like the night before, everything went black.


End file.
